


Love Abloom

by Delicate_Doll



Category: Cookie Run
Genre: F/M, Fencing, Flirting, Meet-Cute, Parties, Raspberry Mousse is a Fool and this is the hill I will gladly die on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:54:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23268787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delicate_Doll/pseuds/Delicate_Doll
Summary: Raspberry Mousse Cookie has been feeling a little down and out lately. Nothing can seem to get him excited anymore, not fencing, not his delightful garden, nothing. It’s miserable. After being named guard captain, he’s hopeful the resulting gala will perk him up. When he meets a breathtaking flower in his garden however, the question isn’t how to get his heart to race— it’s how to get the thing to stop.
Relationships: Raspberry Mousse Cookie/Rose Cookie
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Love Abloom

Thrust, parry, block. Thrust, parry, mind the footwork. A roll, a dodge, another thrust. 

Fencing was an art, a way of life, an elegant dance. In this way, Raspberry Mousse Cookie was a remarkable dancer. 

Thrust, parry, dodge. 

This guardsman wasn't even making it difficult. 

Though he'd never thought to call himself a thrill-seeker or adrenaline junkie, Rasberry had fallen into a lull these past few months. Nothing seemed to get his heart racing as he wanted it, no dual challenging enough or obstacle course worth the effort. It was miserable. 

Thrust, parry, parry, duck, _thrust._

The match was his. 

How unsatisfying. 

The tournament hadn't been so dreadfully boring. It'd been a swirl of colors, of fighters with unique styles and challenges and difficulty. Had he been younger, the event would have been called _fun._ The very last match, against _her_ , exceptionally so. 

If he'd known this would be the result, however, he'd have brushed her off immediately. Nothing was worth this restless kind of hell, not her lovely face, not her impossible skill with a sword. It had been a timed dual, meant to crown a victor in 10 minutes or less. She'd amazed him with her tact and almost had him bested in 1. After the initial surprise he'd been able to recover, and they fought to a tie. Panting, drenched in sweat and exhausted, he'd asked her name. 

_"If you're looking for a rematch you're out of luck. That technique... I'd rather not. Good luck to you in training though!"_

It made him a certain kind of furious, even months later. They'd _tied._ She'd no right to sound so patronizing, to insinuate he needed more training. It was disgraceful. It was _embarrassing,_ to think he was still hung up on the match. On her words. 

"Excellent, Raspberry! That had to have been your quickest match yet, amazing! How agile and--"

Oh. The guard was still here. He'd been too in his own head as he sheathed his saber, thinking of the past. 

"You're dismissed," he said curtly. Despite the sour mood, he remained polite. He was raised better than that. "Well done."

The fellow musketeer cookie bowed their head to him, and with a few final words of praise, was gone. 

Alone in the garden, at last, Raspberry Mousse breathed a sigh of relief. How dull. He'd been the one to request the match, and here he was grateful it was over with. He felt childish in that way, no toy or activity able to fully captivate him. Not even fencing, his love. 

He wandered aimlessly, checking in on the many flowers of his estates garden. The fall air was harsh for some of the more delicate flowers, but the strong few kept the place alive with color and vibrant. 

Autumn lilies, chrysanthemums, violas, and flowering asters all reached out to offer their gentle sympathy. He accepted it with grace, but his destination was set. The roses had been quite picky this spring, refusing to bloom, but the pavilion looked just as fine in their buds as it did their blooms, and it was his favorite place in the entire world. The scent, the colors, the peace. 

"Oh, how lovely!"

The four young men standing in the gazebo, making quite the ruckus. 

"This will be perfect." 

"An excellent local, indeed." 

"I can't _wait_ to start dancing here, oh it will be wonderful, won't it?"

" _Excuse me!_ " Raspberry snapped, quickly racing up to the cookies. Four pairs of red eyes snapped to him, all in surprise. "What do you think you're all doing here? This is a private estate--" 

"You're Raspberry Mousse?" One asked, hiding behind another. 

"I-- wh-- _yes._ And as I mentioned, this area is _private_. How even did you all get in this is--"

A cookie suddenly lept on him, and it took all his self-control not to toss them right off, as in training. Wouldn't do any good to throw this one in particular anyway, she was employed by his father. 

"I did!" Birthday Cake Cookie practically yelled in his ear, excited and trilling. "This delectable bunch is the entertainment! I tried to find you, honest, but you were in the middle of a match and they were waiting at the door and it was only supposed to be a few minutes so--"

"Enough, madam. I understand." The nearest dancer fluttered his eyes at Rasberry, who coughed nervously. "I do wish you would tell me about appointments you're scheduling to the house, I thought they might be intruders." 

" _Us?_ Intruders?" one asked, bottom lip quivering and hanging off Birthday Cake. They all sort of were, posed and playing off her. She let them, naturally, but Raspberry caught the nervous glint in her blue eyes. 

"Of course, this was a one-time accident, I swear!" She said, catching one's hip as he swooned to the left. "And this was the final meeting before the gala, we should be all set for next week." Another one feigned a swoon to the right, and she was quick to snag his hand to keep him off the ground. 

"If that's all there was to handle then, I do so hate to be rude but I was hoping to retire here for some quiet--"

"It must be here!"

Both Birthday Cake and Raspberry Mousse blinked, unsure which one of them exactly had spoken. Finally, Birthday Cake Cookie spoke up.

"Excuse me?"

"The dance, of course! Here, in the gazebo." 

Birthday Cake dropped the two cookies in her hold, and the other two who'd been leaning on her were quick to hit the floor too as she stepped out, outraged. 

" _What?!_ That wasn't in the plan-- the dance was supposed to be in the main courtyard, that's where the party is being held--"

"Well, _yes_ , but that's not where the dance will be held. Here!" A dancer said in earnest, looking up to her. 

"No! No, no, no, absolutely not had I known this would come of letting you wander off I'd have invested in kiddy leashes, setting up seating alone will be nightmarish--"

"I think I'd like it here, actually." Said Raspberry. Birthday Cake whipped around to face him, candles flickering irritably. He hadn't wanted a party in the first place, she could deal with it. 

"The lack of seating will make it a smaller event. It'll be the end of the night and watching the performance will be nice on the nerves. Quieter." Raspberry smiled to himself, growing to like the idea more and more. "Yes, this will be perfect."

"Yes!" the dancers chirped in unison, once again hanging off Birthday Cake Cookie. " _Perfect_!" 

"The roses aren't even in bloom...hardly a stunning local..." She muttered, just a touch of irritability in her voice. The cookies swarming her giggled, but Raspberry Mousse was quicker to speak.

"You shouldn't say such things so close to them." He scolded. "They'll bloom when they're ready. Be it now, or at your gala, or never at all. Whatever they chose, you _will_ show them a little more respect." Seeing the look in her eyes, he was quick to add, "Please. This place has been very special to me for... for a very long time." 

She took a moment, breathing in a deep breath. Then, in a softer tone. "I apologize. Of course, the dance can be here, it's _your_ party after all. If there's anything else _special_ though, I want you to tell me, okay? " She asked. "Because I _do_ want you to enjoy the gala. And anything I can do to make sure you enjoy it is going to be worth it." 

Suddenly embarrassed for snapping at her, Raspberry nodded. She was only trying to help him, it wasn't her fault he didn't want a party to begin with. The dancers kept staring curiously at him.

"Of course, mademoiselle. I will keep you better informed in the future."

They each bowed to one another, and Birthday Cake Cookie was on her way, dragging the dancers behind her. 

Raspberry Mousse Cookie sighed, looking over the gazebo. He'd been named captain of the royal guard, an impressive feat. Birthday Cakes parties never disappointed. The dancers all look lovely and skilled, creatures of fair face and toned muscle, they'd be excellent. Why was he still so _bored?_

"Monsieur?"

Raspberry Mousse jumped, startled. When he turned around, he found one of the dancers, split from the pack. 

"Ah, you must forgive me sir."

"Are you lost?"

"Not quite." He strode up to Raspberry, looking thoughtful. From seemingly nowhere, he produced a rose, neatly snipped and lovely. He offered it to Raspberry. Raspberry took it, unconcerned. It was too deloped to be one from his garden. What _did_ concern him, was when the dancer leaned in, oddly genuine expression on "We'll get your heart racing yet. Just be patient."

**Author's Note:**

> Feeling excited yet? I know I am, and the star hasn’t even arrived.


End file.
